


Tout à Moi

by Dagaan



Category: Mahou Shoujo Madoka Magika | Puella Magi Madoka Magica, Puella Magi Tart Magica: The Legend of “Jeanne d’Arc”
Genre: Age Difference, F/F, Futanari, Pseudo-Incest, since Corbeau is adopted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-06
Updated: 2021-02-06
Packaged: 2021-03-17 22:00:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,721
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29232660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dagaan/pseuds/Dagaan
Summary: Corbeau, one of three sisters with potential to be a magical girl, is called to meet with her adoptive mother, the Queen. Isabeau de Bavière is not a patient woman, and certainly not one to take “no” for an answer.
Relationships: Isabeau de Bavière/Corbeau (Tart Magica)
Kudos: 13





	Tout à Moi

**Author's Note:**

> I’m sorry, Corbeau ;;
> 
> This was kind of hard to write.  
> Enjoy?
> 
> Title translates to “all mine”, btw.

Corbeau had been called to Isabeau’s room on short notice, leaving her hair it’s usual mess though her clothes were neat— the Queen wouldn’t have it any other way, of course. Well, except for her hair being a little tidier. The young girl ran her hands through her thick mop, attempting to make herself presentable. Though she and her sisters had been living in the palace for a few years now, the Queen still made her nervous; she had a very commanding aura, which, Corbeau supposed, one would expect of royalty. Still, something about her eyes and the way she looked at them was... unnerving. It probably had to do with that “magical girl” thing she talked about sometimes.

It wasn’t the first time the white haired girl had been to the Queen’s chambers, though it wasn’t common for any of them to be there, especially alone. While she likely could’ve found her way there on her own, she appreciated following after a maid to make sure it was the right direction. Corbeau figured there were still some rooms she hadn’t yet been in to, bedchambers not included. The place was like a maze in some sections. Getting lost would be both embarrassing and make her late, which she certainly didn’t want. Staying on Isabeau’s good side was a must.

As they got further through the palace, the number of maids — curiously, Isabeau seemed to employ exclusively women — continued to thin, until they were the only two in the empty carpeted hallway. Though it was getting late, there had still been a few attending rooms and the like earlier in their route. The maid stopped outside a large double door of intricately carved dark wood, stepping off to the side to allow Corbeau entry. Thanking her, the white haired girl ran one final pass through her hair before knocking, pushing the door open a moment later.

Inside the room was as lavish as the door, with a polished hardwood floor and likely imported furniture. In the center, against the back wall, was a very large bed, with a canopy of silk draped over it. In the middle of it sat the Queen.

Clearing her throat, Corbeau stepped lightly into the room, attempting to show confidence. Isabeau would chide her if she seemed nervous. “Good evening, Mother. You summoned me? Is... something the matter?” 

Confidence was rather difficult in the face of Isabeau de Bavière, even when she wasn’t doing anything.

The blonde woman laughed lightly. “Ah, Corbeau. No need to be so formal.” Turning from where she sat in her bed, she shifted closer to one side. “Come here.”

Corbeau felt the hair on the back of her neck prickle at the words, more a command really, and froze. Their Mother was a woman of greed and desire, prone to bouts of cruelty — though never directed at any of the three sisters. However, one simply did _not_ ignore Isabeau, and so she strode forward, stopping a few feet from where the older woman sat, shrouded behind the drapes surrounding her bed.

“Here.” Isabeau stated again, patting the top of the bed.

The younger girl tried not to furrow her brow as she took another step forward, moving the curtain out of the way and sitting awkwardly at the very edge of the bed. She still wasn’t entirely sure why she was here, but her stomach was twisting itself in knots at the tension pulling on her nerves. Corbeau took a breath, attempting to steady herself and make eye contact — as was proper — but her face quickly fell apart as the Queen gave another chuckle. She hoped her panic wasn’t quite as obvious on the outside as she felt.

Corbeau tensed as she felt a hand brush through her hair, fingers trailing down her neck and coming to rest on her shoulder. Her body tipped with the mattress as Isabeau moved closer, resting her head on the opposite shoulder and placing a kiss on the younger — but taller — girl’s chin.

“You’ve gotten rather strong, haven’t you?” Another kiss, this time on her neck. Corbeau tried not to flinch. “Quite handsome, too, if I may say so.” The older woman practically purred in her ear, guiding her back a little farther on to the bed.

Corbeau felt like she was overheating yet cold at the same time. Her brain refused to think of a response, or really anything at all, instead leaving her to stare blankly back at the older woman. She got a coy smile in reply.

“Now now, it’s not polite to ignore a compliment.” The blonde woman teased. “Particularly one from the Queen, might I add.”

The taller girl tried not to shiver. “Sorry, Mother.” She mumbled. No, that wouldn’t do. A little louder, she added. “Thank you.”

“Much better.”

Dropping her nightgown and straddling the younger girl’s waist, Isabeau cupped Corbeau’s face, pressing a soft kiss to her lips as a thousand emotions pounded through the younger girl’s body. Adrenaline thumped in her veins as her mind raced. She couldn’t get out of this, could she? Well, better her than... the white haired girl steeled herself as best she could, attempting to close off the part of her brain that could feel. Yes, better this happen to her than her sisters. She was supposed to be the strong one, wasn’t she?

“Mo...” Corbeau’s throat closed as she shivered, feeling Isabeau’s fingers in her hair again, nails scraping lightly at her skull. She wavered, clinging as best she could to her flimsy facade as her heart rate spiked, blood thumping in her ears.

The younger girl’s body got the better of her as Isabeau ran a hand down her stomach, giving a hum of approval at the pressure between her thighs. Hooking her fingers at the front of Corbeau’s pants, the blonde woman tugged her waistband down past her dick, leaving the edge of the fabric to cup her base. Panic thrumming in her veins, the white haired girl went to grab at the front of her pants, flinching away when she accidentally touched the bare thigh of the woman straddling her, prompting a light chuckle.

“Oh, you may leave your hands on me as much as you like.” The older woman sighed. “No need to be shy.”

Isabeau pushed herself down on her, letting out a content noise. The younger girl’s breath caught in her throat, hands bunching in the sheets and shoulders curving. Corbeau’s whole body felt like it was on fire; little pinpricks dancing on her skin and sending white hot flashes across her shut eyelids.

“Just give yourself to me.” The blonde woman whispered. “It doesn’t have to hurt, you know.” She nuzzled her forehead against the younger girl’s temple, placing a kiss on her cheek and sighing as she rolled her hips.

Corbeau felt her legs twitch at the movement, her breath coming in little gasps. She didn’t want this; God, how could she feel so awful and yet so good at the same time? It would be easier to give up, wouldn’t it? Even just to get it over with? A groan pulled its way out of her throat.

Isabeau practically purred, voice breathy. “There’s a good girl.” She caught under her chin with both hands, tipping the white haired girl’s head back and kissing her deeply.

Yes, she should at least keep Isabeau happy. Her stomach still in knots, Corbeau kissed her back, one hand shifting to rest lightly on the older woman’s thigh. The Queen gave a content moan, muffled against the younger girl’s mouth, as she pushed herself down, taking her full length. Grinding her hips in place as she broke the kiss and gave Corbeau a moment to pant, one of Isabeau’s hands made it’s way to the younger girl’s back while the other tangled in her now very messy hair, continuing to pepper her face with little kisses.

The Queen spoke in a soft voice between partings, voice heavy, murmuring about the younger girl’s potential; oh, the power she could obtain! That she could give her daughter anything she’d ever want, if she just gave the word. Corbeau hardly registered it, mind vacant, as the older woman shifted. Raising her hips before dropping again in a smooth motion, the older woman continued to whisper sweet nothings as she rode the white haired girl.

Fear ever present as she reciprocated each kiss, Corbeau kept choking back the voice in her mind that threatened to take over. She was _not_ about to cry. Not now; not in front of Isabeau. The white haired girl’s breath was coming in ragged gasps as the older woman’s heat danced fire through her body, a sharp contrast to the seeping cold in her mind. She just had to hold out a little longer, and—

Corbeau’s mind went blank as she felt Isabeau tense on her, release pounding in her veins as both hands reflexively pulled the older woman down. Attempting to strangle any noise that tried to burst from her chest, back curving, Corbeau’s forehead thumped onto the blonde woman’s shoulder. Isabeau’s fingers tangled in her white hair, pulling, other hand raking across her shoulder as she jerked her hips.

A moment passed as Isabeau let her breathing even out, before tipping the younger girl’s chin up and placing a kiss on her nose. Corbeau tried to keep a steady face. 

She shuddered slightly as the Queen pulled off of her, standing to put her nightgown back on. The white haired girl pulled her waistband back up, fixing the front of her now rumpled shirt. 

“You may return to your quarters now.” The blonde woman settled down beside her, comfortable. “Unless you would rather spend the night with me? My bed is certainly big enough for two.”

Corbeau stood up quickly; a smile played at the edge of Isabeau’s lips. “I—“ Her throat closed. She cleared it. “I should— leave you to your rest.”

The older woman gave a light laugh as she leaned on to her side, propped up on one elbow to watch the other girl. “Goodnight then, Corbeau. Sleep well.”

“Goodnight, Mother. Sleep well.” The white haired girl walked somewhat stiffly to the door, shutting it as quietly as she could behind her.

Corbeau tried not to run back to her room.

**Author's Note:**

> Did you know Isabeau is 61 at the end of the series? Looking pretty good for her age... She’s about 40-50 here since it’s before that, though.  
> Pre-contract Corb is ~13-15 in this, probably.


End file.
